


Consume

by the_line



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Canonical attempted murder, Drunken Kissing, Dubcon Kissing, Extremely Dubious Consent, Grinding, Guilt, Incest, M/M, Orgasm through clothing, Violence, dubcon, emotional incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-06 16:34:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13415247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_line/pseuds/the_line
Summary: You’ll never be anything more than a sparrow in a gilded cage





	1. Part I - Awaken

**Author's Note:**

> An interpretation or headcanon of sorts on the events leading up to Hanzo's murder attempt on Genji. Please read at your own discretion.

The timing of the guard’s patrol was as precise as the most reliable clockwork that money could buy--meaning it was so predictable as to no longer even be a game for Genji. On the contrary, Genji found himself yawning as he waited for a guard to make his usual motions--check the hallway, take a few seconds to fiddle with his phone because he didn’t think anyone knew, then go on his way--leaving the path clear for the next half hour. Once the footsteps had faded Genji silently dropped to the ground from his perch near the ceiling. Too easy, as Hanzo would put it. 

Genji slipped into a room, sliding the door shut behind him without so much as a click. From there it was just a matter of slipping from the window down a nearby cherry tree and he would be home free. There was a nostalgic yearning for the days when sneaking out had been exciting but it quickly passed. He paused to pull out his phone, a boyish smile breaking across his face as he read over the last text. 

Before he could climb up onto the window the door slid open and his phone was quickly stashed. He turned, face slipping into the expression of innocence. Maybe the guard had heard him-

But no, it wasn’t one of the guards, but rather Hanzo that stood in the doorway wearing a too-stern expression. Genji’s stance relaxed and some of the mischief slipped back into his smile. “Hanzo, you managed to sneak up on me. What a rare occasion!” 

Hanzo looked a great deal less amused, the sternness refusing to leave him. There was, however, something strange about him that Genji could not immediately identify. “Where do you think you are going?” 

“What makes you think I was going anywhere? Am I no longer allowed to walk around at night?” 

Hanzo’s gaze dropped to Genji’s feet. “You are wearing shoes.” 

Genji shrugged, all innocence dropping from his expression so he looked every bit the naughty child caught red-handed. “Oops. Guess I should have waited until I was outside to put them on.” 

“Do you think this is a joke?” Hanzo’s voice came sharply, raised more quickly than usual. Since the passing of their father it seemed all Hanzo had were bad days--as if he was the only one suffering from the loss. 

The smile didn’t quite leave Genji’s lips but a certain defiance came to his eyes. “Not all of us can take life so seriously as you, brother.” 

The two stared each other down until Genji realized he felt not sheepishness or even amusement but rather boredom. He was tired of these arguments, of the lecturing, of Hanzo’s judgmental glaring. Genji pulled himself up, hand upraised in a flippant wave. “I am going out to meet with someone, if you must know. Don’t wait up for me.”  

“How dare you?” Hanzo bellowed at him, taking a few steps into the room. The strangeness tickled at the back of Genji’s brain again then slipped away. 

“How dare I what, do what I’ve  _ been  _ doing for years? You think you’re going to stop me now?” Genji clicked his tongue at him, wondering even as he did if he was going too far. 

No, it was time to stand up to this posturing behavior. 

Hanzo gaped at him, mouth opening and closing for lack of a response to the bold behavior and Genji felt a small thrill. It did his brother some good not to have all the answers for once. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I will be leaving.” 

Genji had barely started to turn when Hanzo was charging at him with force he hadn’t expected. He raised an arm instinctively to shield himself, a vice grip clamping around his wrist. A small gasp escaped him and he tried to quickly shake off the shock. “What are you doing?” 

“Who were you going to see?” The words were ground out angrily and the nagging sensation of something off clicked into place as the reek of sake blew across his face. It was unlike Hanzo to drink to excess but it seemed a habit he was picking up as of late. 

Genji tried to yank his wrist away but Hanzo only held it that much tighter, thumb digging into the skin. His mouth turned down in a grimace. “None of your business!” 

“Of course it’s my business! You are my responsibility now which means your actions reflect poorly on me. Now tell me!” 

Pain prickled through Genji’s chest. “I never asked to be your burden! I don’t care what the council said, they aren’t father and neither are you.” 

Hanzo growled and shoved Genji with enough force that his back hit the wall. Hanzo pinned him there, booze-soaked breath too close to his face. “Were you meeting up with those degenerate  _ friends _ of yours?” 

Genji did not think it was possible for someone to make the word friends sound as repulsive as Hanzo could. He stared back in defiance, determined to stay his ground. “I think the stress is getting to you, brother. Let go of me.” 

Hanzo’s forearm slammed against the wall a mere inch away from Genji’s head, faces so close now he could see the way his brother’s eyes wandered drunkenly over him before locking onto his. “Were you sneaking out to sleep with them?” 

The accusation made Genji burst into a fit of ill-timed laughter. In truth it wasn’t even an outrageous claim, but he couldn’t remember a single time his straight-laced brother had ever alluded to sex, let alone linked it to Genji. Whether it was the sake that emboldened him or not, Genji couldn’t fathom what would make him bring it up right then. 

The laughter only served to enrage Hanzo further and the grip on Genji’s wrist became painful. “What’s so funny?” 

A mischievous expression returned to Genji’s face. Maybe he could embarrass his brother into a retreat. “Are you trying to protect my precious virtue? You’re a few years too late,  _ brother _ .” 

A storm brewed in Hanzo’s face and for a split second Genji swore he could see the dragon there, staring at him from the dark abyss of his brother’s eyes. Hanzo’s lips parted and Genji tensed, waiting for them to spill their acid. Instead they crushed against his mouth, clumsy and warm. 

Genji’s eyes widened, shock and confusion flooding his senses simultaneously. What was Hanzo doing? He kept waiting for the contact to end but it persisted, their mouths mashing together awkwardly and- 

_ Hanzo doesn’t know how to kiss. He’s never done it before. He doesn’t know  _

Genji’s hand finally jerked up to Hanzo’s back, some vague thought about pulling him off floating through the fog of his mind, but all he could do was clutch his brother’s shirt. Instead of taking it as a sign of protest it seemed to encourage Hanzo, who moaned as he pressed closer, taking in a gasp of air before planting another demanding kiss against Genji’s lips. 

The suddenness of it shook Genji to the core and he stood motionless, lost to the moment as he failed to make sense of what was happening. It was a flutter of touch against his neck that jolted him back to the present, Hanzo’s calloused fingers sliding to cradle it with a gentleness he had not displayed since their youth. The kiss was broken just as suddenly as it had begun and the two breathed harshly in the dark. 

Hanzo was staring at him, thoughts unfathomable as he seemed to search his face for something, anything. “Genji.” 

Genji’s fingers remained clenched around the cloth of Hanzo’s shirt so tightly they ached but if he let go he might fall. “Brother.” 

Silence grew taut between them, threatening to splinter. It was Hanzo that chose to act first--as always, the one with the will to make decisions--leaning into the tense space between them. Genji knew he had to do something. 

_ Say something. Pull him away. Push him back. Do you want this to happen?  _

Thick hair spilled over Hanzo’s shoulder and created a curtain for them as he pressed his forehead to Genji’s. Even when Hanzo spoke softly, it came out in a rough tone, “Genji.” 

_ Do something  _

Hanzo’s eyes remained focused on him, dancing and skittering every so often. His hands were hot against Genji’s skin. 

_ Do something! _

“ _ Genji _ .” 

It was spoken so close that Genji could feel the way his lips wrapped around his name. 

_ So useless. So weak  _

Hanzo pressed on Genji’s neck, tugging him forward just enough that their lips were meeting again, moving together like a caress. 

_ Does this mean he loves me?  _

Genji closed his eyes, body going lax as Hanzo deepened the kiss until it resumed a feverish heat. Despite a definite lack of skill Genji was taken aback by the hunger of it, the force. The way Hanzo kissed reminded him a great deal of himself, actually--endlessly greedy. It made his lips twitch up in grim amusement. 

Hanzo’s grip was suddenly missing from his wrist and a rush of sensation surged through his hand. Genji’s fingers flexed, devoid of purpose. He jolted as Hanzo touched his waist, impatiently digging under the material of his shirt. It tickled as Hanzo began stroking smooth skin and muscle, mapping it out impatiently.

A lukewarm numbness had begun to sink in. The initial shock was gone and Hanzo’s efforts summed up to clumsy fumbling that--on some level Genji would never acknowledge--failed to impress. Perhaps, he started to think, it would end soon and they would simply not speak of it. 

The sluggish, complacent fog was shaken as something wet and hot pressed insistently past his lips, running over the roof of his mouth. Genji’s eyes fluttered open in surprise and a strange, suffocating ball of heat bloomed in his chest and continued down between his legs as he realized that Hanzo was still staring steadfastly at him. 

A startled noise rose up his throat, trapped as Hanzo’s tongue forced it back as he explored every inch of his mouth. In truth, it was disgusting. Invasive and in poor kissing form. Somehow it was more like being tasted than kissed. It didn’t stop Genji’s heart from pounding so hard he was convinced Hanzo must have heard, must have been the reason his brother moaned again.

Nails scraped against Genji’s side then slid back, back, clawing down the curve of his ass. Fingers dug into pliant skin, groping as unabashedly as a lover. Genji made a surprised sound and that time it made it to the surface with a wet pop as Hanzo broke away, licking away a strand of saliva. 

The hand still gently cradling his neck slid up until Hanzo stroked along the flush of heat that painted Genji’s cheek, bringing it to his attention. When had he gotten so worked up? 

Hanzo’s gaze swept over his face before meeting his eyes once more. His thumb slid slowly down Genji’s cheek, catching on his lower lip and tugging it down. He let out a sigh and Genji cringed away, overwhelmed by the scent of alcohol. Hanzo mumbled something incomprehensible as he leaned in, pressing a kiss to Genji’s brow. 

The soft, somewhat sloppy kisses trailed down onto his eyelid, down the curve of his cheek, contrasting sharply with the hand that continued to knead and grope him. Genji breathed hard, shaky all over. He  _ had  _ to say something. It had gone far beyond too far but it was time. 

Genji took in a short breath, lips parting to speak. Hanzo pressed his nose just beneath his ear. “Beautiful.” 

The words froze in Genji’s throat, heart flipping as all the air left his lungs in a rush. “What?” 

Hanzo didn’t repeat himself, teeth scraping over the shell of his ear. Genji felt almost compelled to demand he say it again when all thought was cut off by a firm pressure between his legs. Hanzo breathed hotly against Genji’s neck as his hips rose in an arching motion, making Genji light-headed as something hard pressed against him. “Brother…” 

Hanzo groaned, hips bucking against him as he seemed to struggle to pull his body closer. The grain of the wood scraped against Genji’s lower back as Hanzo’s body rocked into his in tight, fierce grinding motions that left Genji holding onto him for dear life. 

Heat pooled temptingly and as Hanzo’s breath caught Genji was suddenly so aware of how inexperienced his brother was. No one had ever seen him in such a state, so far removed from his tight-fisted control. How often had Hanzo thought about doing this? For how long? It was exciting in a way that made Genji ashamed. 

Wet kisses were pressed against his throat, accompanied by hungry sucking where his pulse throbbed. Genji chewed on his lower lip, eyes sliding shut. Something was creeping over him as their clothed erections brushed together. Even as his cock throbbed with a dull, steady ache that grew in intensity but was not eased there was something else building. A troubling thought-

_ Not enough  _

That they weren’t quite lining up. What was predominantly growing was not pleasure but- 

_ Frustration  _

Hanzo didn’t know better and was too drunk to figure it out. It was the perfect place to draw the line, let things peter out. But Genji wanted it---wanted satisfaction, wanted relief, wanted a moment of comfort and connection with his brother. Sometimes he missed him so much it  _ ached  _ and-

_ You would let your own brother fuck you so long as it means getting off _

Genji whimpered in distress, caught in his own mind, when Hanzo’s mouth pressed against his ear. “Shhh. Shh, I have you, Genji.” 

The words were a balm, easing the sharp edges of his thoughts. Hanzo pressed a kiss to his ear, sending a shiver down his neck. “You are where you belong.”  

There was a sudden thought of the text he’d received, the one waiting for him outside the walls of the Shimada’s den. Hanzo’s fingers slid between the globes of his ass and squeezed hard as he gave a pained plea, “Don’t leave me.”

Genji’s brow furrowed, heart muddled with bruised feelings he could not put names to as he spread his legs wider, adjusting the position of his hips. The two of them pressed flush together, letting out a synchronized gasp. Genji’s thoughts scattered a thousand different directions, leaving his mind blessedly blank. 

Previous worries felt far away and all he was aware of was the way the two of them clung together, rocking against each other like two pieces finally fit back the way they were meant to be, creating a whole. The sounds Hanzo made were low and animalistic, raw and starving for the contact. In exchange for such honesty, Genji rewarded him with sweet moans. 

It only spurred his brother on, the two pressed together so tightly it was almost painful. The spark of heat bloomed and grew into a flame and Genji felt so dizzy he was glad to have the wall at his back and Hanzo’s arms around him. Their lips crushed together once more and Genji could not remember which of them had done it, knew it no longer mattered. 

It came as no surprise that Hanzo’s breath began to hitch first, the movement of his hips losing any fluidity and falling into a chaotic rhythm as he buried himself against Genji. The muscles in his back and arms tensed, hands beginning to tremble, and the kiss was broken sharply. Hanzo’s breath came hot against Genji’s ear, accompanied by a series of grunts, before every part of him tensed. His orgasm seemed so much more vivid than others Genji had shared a bed with, like the first wave of a tsunami finally crashing against the shore and swallowing everything in its path. 

Hanzo finally went lax and Genji thought that was the end of it, that this strange interlude had ended. Hanzo made a sound that might have been his name, his hand suddenly against Genji and he  _ pressed _ , hand rocking irresistibly. Genji’s head fell back, body jerking up sharply. He bit his lip relentlessly, forcing his hips up against Hanzo’s hand to meet the rising sensation inside him. His breath dragged in roughly as he came, forcing his cry into a sharp, “Hanzo!” 

The feeling thrummed over him again and again, gradually dimming into a dull ache. The two breathed together, long enough that a vague thought surfaced that the guard might come back and find them like this. Genji was in too much shock to do anything about the possibility, body trembling and weak. 

After what felt like an eternity Hanzo began to pull back, staring at him. The gaze pierced him through and he might as well have been bare. From the light just outside the window Genji could make out the fact that his face was still flushed, though he did not know if it was from what they had done or the alcohol. 

Genji wanted him to speak, to explain himself, to say something,  _ anything.  _ The desire for Hanzo to speak rose up in Genji’s throat like a scream that he swallowed down roughly. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, knowing that Hanzo was waiting on him. 

When he could no longer take their standoff, Genji pushed himself away from the wall on shaky legs. He staggered a few steps forward, taking a breath to speak. He didn’t know what to say. Why was Hanzo waiting for him to break the silence? It wasn’t fair! 

_ You’re so pathetic _

Genji exhaled sharply, then breathed in again. “I am going to bed. Good night.” 

Hanzo only grunted and Genji continued to walk. He paused partway down the hall, skin prickling with the baseless certainty that if he turned around Hanzo would still be watching him. He did not look back to check. 

When he turned the corner he ran right into the guard, whole body flinching like he’d received a shock. The underling yelped in surprise. “Young master, please forgive me! I-” 

Something about the way Genji was staring wide-eyed must have been odd because the man stopped short, looking a bit perplexed. “Do you...need anything?” 

Genji continued to gape, then quickly shook his head, pushing past with mumbled sounds that only resembled words. He hurried towards his room, gaining speed the closer he came to it. Getting the door closed behind him gave a small token of comfort that he soaked in before hurriedly cleaning up. Even when he had, there was still the sensation of Hanzo’s warmth on him like a phantom mark. He slipped naked into bed, pulling the blankets tightly around himself. 

Thoughts spun chaotically around him as he tried to comprehend what had happened. Part of it felt like some kind of fever dream but as certainty sank in, so too did a sick feeling. It was impossible to make sense of his brother’s actions, trace out their motivations to some kind of source, leading to the conclusion that it was somehow his fault. There must have been something he had done, or said, that got such an idea into Hanzo’s head. If nothing else, his brother was the inexperienced one and Genji had guided their actions that far when he’d had the power to stop it. 

And somewhere in the darkest, most shameful part of Genji, he thought it had felt good. 

Genji became aware of his cellphone, clutched too tightly in his hand. With a little effort he eased his grip, flipping it open. The message he’d been looking at before was still up, accompanied by a set of coordinates. 

At last someone had come looking for him. Not his father, not his brother, not his clan. For the first time, someone had wanted Genji. The man had told him that he could make a difference. That he could be useful. The words had left him in a tizzy for days but now they made his throat and chest burn. 

How could Genji be of use to anyone when he was so weak? He sent a shaky message, letting the man named Reyes know that he would not be meeting with him that night after all. A thousand excuses passed through his mind but ultimately he sent it without one, turning the phone off.

Hot tears stung his eyes then spilled over as Genji pressed the cellphone to his mouth, stifling his sobs. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 


	2. Part II - Consume

Genji’s heart flitted rapidly with nerves, reminding him of his father’s diminutive nickname for him: sparrow. He pondered the nature of his father’s affection, which had so often doubled as an insult. Or perhaps he was merely overthinking it, using it as a tactic to emotionally distance himself from his home. It no longer mattered, the man was dead and only memories and speculation remained.    
  
There was a knock on the door and Genji was pulled from his musings, forced to take a deep breath to center himself. He crossed the room, mind racing with who it might be, fearing it would be Hanzo. It was merely a servant whose greeting Genji was too flustered to properly return.

“Did you need something?” He asked stiffly, cringing at how sharply it came out.

If it bothered the servant, he was well versed not to show it. “Young master Hanzo has sent for you. He beseeches you to come as quickly as is possible. Tonight.” 

The last word was clearly a clarification his brother had insisted upon. Genji’s nerves doubled but he hid it that time, nodding calmly. “I understand.” 

After he had closed the door Genji leaned back against it, letting out a sigh. The summons caught him off guard. Why had Hanzo determined he wished to speak to him the very night he intended to leave once and for all? 

Somewhere, beyond the Shimada estate, a contact was waiting for him, waiting to take him into another world where he might prove his own worth without a name to do it for him. His contact Reyes had been firm that it was the last time he was extending the offer, so he’d better be sure about it.

Genji knew it would be best just to go but still he hesitated. He knew there was no reason he should actually have to go see his brother first. It would be easy to slip out right then, be long gone before Hanzo even suspected something might be afoot. Who even knew how much time would pass before his brother would have the chance to confront him?

But it was that question of time more than anything that made him hesitate. It was possible if he did not go to Hanzo that night, he might not see him for years. He might not see him ever. Things had not been the best between them in some time, but he had love for his brother. He felt he owed him that much. 

Genji took in a deep breath through his nose, then released it. One more time, then. He passed through halls that he had walked through a thousand times before but saw them with fresh eyes. Each detail seemed to grab his attention, became once again something of interest. In truth, Genji did not think he would miss the place very much, having spent so much of his life trying to escape it, but a great deal of who he had become was contained within the walls of the Shimada estate. There wasn’t a single corner that did not contain a memory. 

The anxiety was a low thrum in Genji’s guts. He couldn’t fathom what Hanzo wanted from him. After that night he had been waiting for something, the other shoe to fall, but nothing had come of it. Even though Genji had dreaded seeing his brother the next day, Hanzo had acted as if nothing had changed between them. 

The incident was not once mentioned, and Genji had not even felt his brother’s eyes crawl across his skin as he might have expected. Truly he was not sure what to make of it, wondering if perhaps Hanzo didn’t even remember it. It would no doubt be for the best, but Hanzo had also been peculiarly lenient since then. 

There had been no lectures about him refraining from sneaking out, or reflecting better on the family. His disposition still had the same grim, heavy air about it, but it was somehow softer. That made everything worse, and was ultimately how Genji had bolstered the courage to do what needed to be done. 

Genji stopped just outside of the training hall, pausing to look up at the moon. It was full, bathing the entire courtyard in pale light. Something about it made Genji’s heart ache and he quickly moved on. He would hear whatever it was that Hanzo wanted from him and then he would disappear into the night. 

Genji’s footsteps fell silent on the bridge that crossed from the entrance to the main floor and he stopped short as he reached the other side. Hanzo stood facing away from him, holding his katana aloft. His long hair had been pulled into a tight bun, broad back covered in a sheen of sweat. Genji’s eyes were drawn to the dragon tattoo on his right arm, powerful and beautiful. He’d thought more than once about tracing his fingers across the ink lines, perhaps drawn to what they represented, his own dragon responding to its energy. 

Hanzo reached up to wipe his forehead and Genji finally took the last few steps, calling out, “Hanzo.” 

His brother stiffened, clearly startled, though he hid it well. Hanzo turned narrowed eyes towards him, nodding his head in a surprising show of civility. That couldn’t be a good sign. 

“Genji, I didn’t expect such promptness.” 

“My apologies. Perhaps I should come back later?” Years of lying made the words light on his tongue, though his stomach was filled with lead. 

If Hanzo was one to roll eyes, Genji was sure he would be doing it right about then. Instead they remained steadfast on him. “Do not be ridiculous.” 

He indicated with a tilt of his head for Genji to come forward, then seated himself on his knees. The katana was set down beside him with more respect than Genji had ever felt directed at him. To be fair, the blade had probably done more to deserve it. 

The thought of kneeling was making Genji itch, a small alarm sounding at the back of his head. He’d gotten this far, but would Hanzo pursue if he were to suddenly bolt? Whatever Hanzo wanted, this was going to be more than the typical lecture. Genji had a sense for such things. 

Hanzo finally raised an eyebrow commandingly at him and Genji, who had no reservation about rolling his eyes, did so as he moved to sit across from his brother. “What have I done this time?” 

“Why don’t you tell me?” Hanzo asked a bit dryly. 

Genji narrowed his eyes a bit, not sure if it was a serious inquiry. “I much prefer to hear it from a secondary source, to help me better concoct a story.” 

The words were met with a brick wall of disapproval, but then something odd happened. The side of Hanzo’s mouth pulled up ever so slightly. It troubled Genji for some reason, though he did not have time to dwell on it as the thought was interrupted. “I didn’t call you here to give you a lecture.” 

“Why else would I be here?” The words came out before he could think them through, but Genji was genuinely baffled. Wracking his brain proved fruitless. 

“Do you truly believe I would have no other reason to speak with you other than to offer a scolding?” There was something tired in Hanzo’s voice when he asked. 

Genji went quiet, no witty comment on hand to use as a shield. Discomfort prickled in his chest. Were they finally going to discuss the incident? It was impossible to imagine what Hanzo would even say on the matter, other than to blame it completely on him. He fidgeted in the growing silence. 

“No,” Genji finally said, then added on belatedly, “Of course not.” 

The uncomfortable silence lingered, finally broken by Hanzo’s sigh. “I know that things have not been the smoothest between us for some time. We can both agree that things have been complicated.” 

It was an understatement, but Hanzo wasn’t wrong. Genji’s muscles were still tensing, waiting for him to bring it up. He found, surprisingly, that anticipation was mixed in with the anxiety. It was about time for someone to say something about it. Genji chose his words carefully, refusing to let his brother coerce him into being the one to do so. “There has been a great deal of pressure on everyone since father died.” 

“Yes.” Hanzo stared down at the floor as if he could read something in the wooden grain, then looked upwards, craning his neck to stare up at the mural of the two dragons. “It feels like a lifetime ago that he last told us the story of the dragons.” 

Genji’s own gaze travelled up towards the two dragons, endlessly winding around one another. He thought of the weight of Hanzo’s body as they grinded against one another. He swallowed thickly, nodding the image away. “Yes. I always enjoyed hearing it.” 

When Genji turned to look at Hanzo, he found his brother was already staring at him. A little jolt went through his stomach. “As did I.”

It was such a minor thing to say, but it was unusual for Hanzo to be sentimental. It threw Genji into doubt over what he was there to discuss. Surely they weren’t about to divert down a path of fond childhood remembrances. Genji’s resolve could not take such a thing and once again the nerves were there, dancing under his skin like flecks of lightning. 

Genji’s fingers clenched. He had no choice but to yield to his brother’s will and bend first. “Why am I here, Hanzo?” 

Hanzo measured him with an even look, but there was something in his expression that Genji couldn’t identify and it was killing him. He wanted to yell at him to just spit it out, to stop lording it over him. Why couldn’t he just say what he meant? 

“Yes, to the point.” Genji held his breath as Hanzo spoke. “Things have changed drastically, Genji. You know that as well as I do. You have had your fun, but it is time to commit to the Shimada name. You will take your rightful place beside me, and together we will lead our clan to even greater heights.” 

What little air had lingered in Genji’s lungs rushed out and he could barely gasp in a breath to replace it. His mouth opened uselessly. Surely he was joking? A thick sludge seemed to rise in Genji’s throat, weighing down all his words. At last he managed to croak out a wavering, “No.” 

Disquiet fell over them, choking the air even more. Hanzo tilted his head, brow furrowing. “Do not be foolish, Genji. I know you have enjoyed shirking your responsibilities, but it is time to move beyond such childish games.” 

He reached out and Genji flinched when Hanzo touched his face, thumb pressing against his lower lip. “No matter how far you run, the place you belong has always been at my side.” 

Time slowed and Genji was so aware of the warmth of his brother’s hand, the firm pressure against his lip, the endless conviction in Hanzo’s eyes. For a split second he melted into all three. A small ‘what if’ was indulged, that perhaps it would not be the worst thing, taking a place as Hanzo’s left hand. Forgetting the man waiting for him, living a life that had been assumed for him and finally stop raging against his shackles, instead wearing them with pride as Hanzo did. 

_ You’ll never be anything more than a sparrow in a gilded cage _

The thought jerked him back so hard he physically pulled away from Hanzo’s touch. He licked his lower lip slowly, finally shaking his head. “I can’t.” 

Hanzo’s hand shrank away, anger quick to rush in. “You must! It’s your birthright!” 

This was it. Genji had intended to melt into the shadows, but in truth there was relief in confronting Hanzo. Maybe that’s why he’d agreed in the first place. For once he was acting in a way that mattered, not simply being guided by something as flimsy as  _ destiny.  _

He straightened up, voice firm. “I don’t want it.” 

Genji had expected another rush of anger, of yelling, of cutting words tipped with venom. Instead what he found in Hanzo’s face was pain so deep it hurt to look at. For a split second he felt the impulse to take it back, promise he’d stay there forever if it meant making that look go away. He choked the reassurances down harshly, letting them die. No matter what, he could not yield. If he did, it would be the end of him. 

Hanzo was speechless, clearly having never considered that Genji might actually turn him down flat. “What do you mean you don’t want it? We-” 

Whatever they were, the words faltered and refused to come. But Genji could feel it, could see it, that already his brother was forming his counter argument, how he was going to tell him that he had no choice. Genji didn’t care about birth rights or rules or destiny. What he wanted--what he  _ needed _ \--was freedom. 

It pained him to do so, but he prepared his next words like a weapon. “Hanzo, I will never be at your side.” 

Even Genji was taken aback by how coldly the words came, like a well placed cut. They seemed to make the very air shiver around them. He waited for Hanzo’s response, but his brother only sat there, mouth opening and shutting silently. In that instant Genji could see perfectly beyond his brother’s facade. He was every bit as lost, as unsure. 

Empowered by this truth, Genji bowed his head. “I must go, Hanzo.” 

Just as he stood, Hanzo reclaimed his voice. “Go? Where would you possibly go?” 

“Goodbye, brother.” Genji turned to leave as his brother scrambled to his feet.

“Genji! Stop this! I demand you stop!” 

Genji slowly turned, eyes and heart hardened for what needed to be done. “I do not take orders from you any longer.” 

“You can’t!” Hanzo took a step forward and for the first time Genji noted the katana was once again clutched in his brother’s hand. “What gives you the right to abandon our home? Our clan?” 

Genji’s expression flinched with pain, embedded burdens he had been running from his whole life. “You have made your decision, brother. I will not allow you to make one for me. From now on, I will choose for myself.” 

“You will fulfill your duties!” Hanzo made a sudden dash at him, katana poised to strike. 

Genji’s body moved on instinct, well before his mind shook off the surprise of it. He sprinted towards the mural, grasping the wakizashi displayed beneath it. He tossed the scabbard aside, bringing it up just in time to catch the katana’s swing. 

They stood with their blades locked together. “Hanzo! Have you gone mad?” 

With a burst of strength, Genji pushed aside his brother’s blade and backed towards the center of the room. Hanzo did not respond, instead coming at him once again with a mighty cry. Genji swung his blade and it glanced aside. 

They circled one another, seeking each other’s weaknesses as they had countless times before. Hanzo had reach and power on his side, but Genji had speed and agility. Their blades clashed again and Genji leaped back. “Do you think this is what father would have wanted?” 

The katana raised, Hanzo’s arms clenched with tension, and then it was slowly lowered. They glared at one another, catching their breath. Hanzo shook his head sharply. “I will not allow you to leave, Genji. You are the only one. The only one I-” 

His jaw clenched shut but Genji couldn’t help but wonder what the words would have been. One possibility came to the forefront and seemed to rattle through his bones:  _ The only one I was allowed to love.  _

Genji lowered the wakizashi. “What did it mean? The other night, when you stopped me from going out, when you- Do you even remember?” 

Hanzo’s gaze wavered and he looked around, as if expecting to see something, someone, but there was only them. There had only ever been the two of them. Genji felt rage sear up his throat, a burning similar to summoning the dragon. “Answer me!” 

Hanzo’s gaze returned to meet his helplessly, wearing an expression that gave Genji a sense of deja vu and unearthed a memory. 

_ The two of them out in the yard, younger then, Genji collapsing back against the ground in defeat after Hanzo managed to land yet another hit on him.  _

_ Hanzo’s eyes, disapproving even then. “Get up, we’re not done yet.”  _

_ “I don’t want to. It’s boring and you always win, anyway. You keep practicing.”  _

_ His brother’s scoff. “It’s through pain that you will grow stronger, Genji.”  _

_ Genji waving his hand dismissively. “You’re the one that likes to suffer, so you can suffer enough for the both of us, right?”  _

The look on Hanzo’s face after those careless words, a look that he had not been able to identify back then, was on his brother’s face again and he finally understood it. The anger eased slightly. Had he not seen that Hanzo had been shouldering the burden all that time? 

Genji shook his head, tossing the wakizashi aside. “I will not fight you, Hanzo, but I will not yield, either.” 

“Genji.” Genji held Hanzo’s gaze regretfully, the world stopping around them for just a heartbeat before he turned away. “Genji!” 

“I wish you well, Hanzo. Please do not hate me for this.”

“Genji!” Hanzo’s voice reached a desperate pitch that was painful to hear. “You don’t get to leave me behind!” 

Genji didn’t stop, though his hands shook. He could not stay there, for either of their sake. And he knew, deep in his gut, that if he didn’t go in that moment then he never would. 

For a few seconds there was only the sound of harsh breathing, of his footsteps on the floor, and then Hanzo began to speak. The air grew thick, crackling with energy. It sent a shiver up Genji’s spine, fear chilling his limbs. Surely Hanzo would not dare, would never use such a power against his own blood? 

Surely Hanzo would not hate him so much as that?

He was trembling as he turned, eyes going wide as the incantation was completed. “ _ Let the dragon consume you!”  _

Hanzo rushed at him, arm and sword blazing with a harsh blue light, imbued with the power of his dragon. Genji stood frozen, watching him grow closer with disbelief, a part of him knowing his brother would surely stop. A cry had not yet managed to leave his throat when there was pain, so searing and complete that it felt like it had engulfed the entirety of his body as the katana sliced through him. 

Sound seemed to blip out, darkness crawling in around the edges as Genji found himself on the floor. Incomprehensible pain entwined and merged with a growing numbness that curled around him as Genji tried to make sense of what had happened to him in the fleeting moments he had left. 

He was scared. He was so scared. This couldn’t be real, Hanzo would never do this to him. Hanzo wouldn’t 

_ I don’t want to die please don’t let me die  _

Genji wanted to scream, to cry out, to call for Hanzo but all that came to his lips was a bubble of thick blood. There was a presence above him, near him, maybe words, but it was all too far away and 

_ Please please don’t let me die here please  _

Everything was going dark, moving further away, becoming colder, colder, until Genji couldn’t feel anything 

_ I don’t want to die! _

And then there was nothing. 

-

Even well after the incident, Genji was unsure of the exact events after the attack. He did not know exactly how he had been saved, by who or why or by what means he had gotten into Overwatch’s hands. He did not know all the things that had to be done to keep him together, to keep him alive. 

The first thing he had known when finally regaining consciousness was pain, anguish, rage. And, well before he knew it would return, there had been an emptiness like he had never known where he could no longer feel his connection with the dragon. Genji had screamed until they had been forced to put him under, burying him in an uneasy sleep where there was only darkness. 

In those twilight places of loss and hate Genji came to understand that somehow, at some point, he had taken his brother’s heart, and so his brother had repaid him by taking his humanity. As more of it was cut away, piece by piece, he dreamed of vengeance. But sometimes, though it was only ever a distant fog he could never fully recall though it left him in tears, he dreamed of two boys running hand in hand, laughing in the fading light of summer. 


End file.
